The Hardest Battle
by Cmdr. Phantom
Summary: Jacks toughest challenge yet...


Title - "The Hardest Battle"

Summery - "Jacks toughest challenge yet"

Disclaimer - "Enter boring stuff here."

A/N - At the end

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"Well, that wasn't too hard." Jack O'Neill mused as he slipped quietly into the building.

It was the only building in the general area that had a pointed arch, although his briefing didn't mention the tumble down appearance, the rotting mortar between the old sandstone blocks, or the gaping hole in the floor, where countless feet and weather had rotted the wooden floor. A large gap under the derelict door contributed to most of the deterioration. As it closed it was accompanied by a mournful groan, followed by a rattle as the bold shot home. This in turn heralded a complete silence, its thickness blocking the traffic noise, not that there was much of that. This old town's glory long faded.

"Now, down to business." Jack's eyes hardened as he became accustomed to the gloom, his animal instincts becoming sharper as he surveyed the building. The hallway went on for some meters before reaching a stairway that descended into more gloom. This stairway was his immediate objective, and he made a purposeful stride in its direction, only to come to an abrupt halt as his footstep made a loud bang followed by a louder creak that echoed down the hall as the boards protested at being woken after a long hot day. Almost on cue a faint burst of laughter filtered through the gloom as Jack felt hundreds of unseen eyes looking to see if their lair had been invaded.

"Damn," Jack lamented. "Now what?" His purpose built combat boots were not designed for soft treading and this noise he was making could lead to his discovery. To this end he tilted the boot on its side as he ventured another step. That was better, as the boards didn't protest quite as loud, so he continued to creep very slowly but methodically toward his goal, picking out the areas where the boards were in better condition and less likely to creak. His ankles were hurting as he reached the railing of the stairs. If you could call it a railing. It was broken in several places, and in others it had a decided lean. The stair treads themselves were worn, but apart from rocking slightly as he descended they were quite safe. As he came to the bottom stair a loud noise startled him. Instinctively he flattened himself against the wall in a catlike maneuver, not daring to breathe, his reflexes honed to handle any situation. He mentally noted the concealed firearm under his armpit but left it holstered for now, choosing to try and bluff his way clear in this instance. His mission demanded stealth, to get in and out without undue attention being brought upon himself. He now allowed himself a breath as he waited in the stillness, his heart pounding as the seconds ticked over.

"Thats odd," he thought. When the noise happened again he was ready for it. He swung around the corner of the stairs only to confront a time clocking machine, long disused but still keeping time. As the minutes ticked over it made rather a sharp noise as the mechanism struggled to turn. Jack let out a muffled curse at this revelation, but then quickly surveyed his new surroundings.

"Down the stairs and in the brown door." they said. "For crying out loud!" Jack exploded. There were two brown doors! What sort of briefing did they give him? He knew he shouldn't have accepted it. Common sense dictated a guide, or at the very least a detailed map. The situation now became a little serious, and small beads of sweat began to form on Jacks brow causing his hands to shake slightly. Choose the wrong door and the repercussions could reverberate right to the very top, causing untold embarrassment and cover up. These doors had been labeled, but the pealing paint obliterated any signage long ago. Desperation now caused him to move up to one door and pushed ever so gently in the hope that if he was wrong maybe he could close it again without anyone noticing, but as before, the hinge let out a deafening screech.

"Shut up, shut up!" Jack screamed in his head. Panic now began to grip as the door opened wider, protesting all the louder the further it opened. "This has got to be it! God, shut up!"

But just then, Jack saw it. Relief flooded over him as his mission was accomplished. There was the urinal.

He had found the men's toilet.

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A/N - Hey everyone! This fic was actually written by my father. How SCARY is that?! It was so funny I had to share with you all. What a classic.

Thanks again to Fi for uploading for me!

Please R&R so I can boost my fathers ego!


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